


Collapsed

by keepingthefaith



Series: a storm is coming [2]
Category: Katekyou Hitman Reborn!
Genre: Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-08
Updated: 2014-05-08
Packaged: 2018-01-24 00:45:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,937
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1585493
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/keepingthefaith/pseuds/keepingthefaith
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Trapped under tons of debris, Yamamoto can only watch a critically injured Gokudera slowly deteriorate before him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Collapsed

**Author's Note:**

> **Plot:** Trapped under tons of debris, Yamamoto can only watch a critically injured Gokudera slowly deteriorate before him.
> 
>  **Setting:** After TYL Arc.

“Gokudera? Goku—,” coughing heavily to clear the dryness of his throat, and clutching at his bruised side where he had landed from the fall, Yamamoto clings to the wall for support, pushing himself despite the pain pulsating all over his body, determined to find his friend.

Willing his flame to burst into life, Yamamoto uses the flickering light to stumble within the cavern of debris he’s now trapped in, _hoping hoping hoping_ to find Gokudera alive.

Last night, the little kid had asked him and Gokudera to take care of a ‘meaningless squabble’ between a once allied Family and the Vongola. Tsuna had immediately protested, reasoning that they didn’t need to do it, that they aren’t Vongola yet, that there should be _someone_ with more experience to handle something important like this. But Dino had merely waved the worry away and said that the two of them can take care of it easily enough, that they had to get used to dealing with situations like this once Tsuna takes up the mantle anyway. Besides, they had their flames and box weapons from the future; what harm can average weapons do to them?

So armed with earpieces for communication, and a few boxes just in case (Uri not included), he and Gokudera had set off a few hours ago, fully confident that they’d be all right.

And it _had_ gone all right.

Except, Dino probably hadn’t thought of _other_ Famiglias. Or that they’d be using bombs to express their displeasure.

Both Famiglias had been on their way out of the building when explosions began everywhere around them. Gokudera had immediately demanded answers from the other Family, but all they had gotten is that it might have been an opposing Family before the floor began crumbling beneath them.

Yamamoto had seen Gokudera’s flame flash, before darkness had settled in.

And then, somewhere in the distance,

“I-idiot…? Tell me that’s you.”

In seconds Yamamoto’s at Gokudera’s side, automatically checking the other boy for injuries. Seconds later, Yamamoto is dismayed by what he finds. The worry must have shown in his face because,

“Heh,” Gokudera says, smirking despite the pain, “Thought if f-felt worse th… than usual. G-guess I was right.”

Tsuna had once told him that he admires how Yamamoto could remain so optimistic despite dire circumstances. Yamamoto now finds himself in a dire circumstance, but he just can’t find it in himself to smile.

“Y-you’re going to be okay, Gokudera,” he says instead. But immediately, he hates himself for sounding so desolate.

But Gokudera only rolls his eyes at him, “S-such… a bad liar, base… ball i-idiot.

Yamamoto could only smile weakly at that.

Silence settles between them. Yamamoto unable to do anything but patch up whatever wound he can, apply pressure to profusely bleeding cuts, all the while knowing that the greatest damage is inside Gokudera’s body. He had touched the depressed rib cage, heard the other boy’s very wet and very short breaths, seen how Gokudera struggles to remain conscious, to breathe.

“H-help me up,” Gokudera suddenly demands.

Frowning in disapproval, Yamamoto shakes his head, “No. You aren’t going anywhere like that.”

Rolling his eyes again at him, Gokudera explains, “Idiot. F-floor. Too cold,” and then he smirks at him and says, “Might… catch a cold. Or s-something.”

“That’s not funny, Gokudera,” and even though Yamamoto’s frowning even more, he gently, _gently_ , lifts Gokudera off the floor, sits him up, then nestles him securely beside him.

Gokudera’s hair is hiding his face for the moment, but even with his face hidden Yamamoto can feel the tension from the other boy’s arms, can feel the bated breath, can imagine that Gokudera has his eyes closed and his lips shut tight to keep himself from crying out loud from the pain.

A groan still escapes him however, and when Gokudera settles down, he takes a rattling breath and weakly but passionately says, “F-fucking _ow_.”

Yamamoto is quick to say, “S-sorry. Sorry,” even though there is nothing to be sorry for.

They sit like this for a moment; Yamamoto leaning against a broken wall, an arm protectively around the shivering bomber, the other arm free with Shigure Kintoki in hand; Gokudera sitting against Yamamoto’s side, curled up as much as he can, his arms encircling his chest, breaths coming in shallow and very painful gasps.

As much for himself as for the bomber, Yamamoto once again says, “You’re going to be all right, Gokudera.”

And it’s like the words had shaken Gokudera from his reverie, because all of a sudden he elbows Yamamoto’s side and snarls, “The f-fuck, baseball f-fr-freak! Get your h-hands off me!”

It’s so much like the usual that Yamamoto can’t help but laugh. But it’s not like he can forget what just happened, and what’s at stake, so he quickly sobers and says, “You’re cold. I’m cold. So isn’t this fine for now?”

With Gokudera facing him, that familiar frown etched deeply between his brows, Yamamoto can see the emotions warring within his friend. He’s heard of Gokudera’s story along with Tsuna, back when they had been sent ten years into the future, so he knows and understands Gokudera’s need to feel independent. Yamamoto doesn’t want to use force against Gokudera, because even if he doesn’t know first aid, and now he wishes he does, he knows that Gokudera’s shivering can’t be good.

Thankfully, the other boy settles down, albeit with much grumbling. The action is so very much like usual that Yamamoto is unable to stop himself from smiling. For a while, he is able to pretend that they’re not in a life-threatening situation. And that there isn’t a chance that Gokudera might… slip away, before help arrives.

“How h-hurt are you?” Gokudera suddenly asks.

A laugh automatically starts to escape his lips, because laughter has always been his first defense, but he clamps it down and without pretense answers, “Bruised. Nothing broken. Cut up in a couple of places. I’m pretty good, considering—,”

Yamamoto pauses, suddenly remembering that flash of Storm Flames before the fall. Horrified, he turns to a confused looking Gokudera before asking, “What did you do?”

Gokudera looks at him with a frown for a moment, before looking away and replying, “W-wanted to… to break everyone’s fall… with S-sistema. But, wasn’t… fast enough,” and then, turning to Yamamoto with a frown once more, he asks, “So?”

Yamamoto frowns in exasperation at him, but nevertheless answers, “I’m fine.”

Gokudera grunts approvingly, before staring at the destruction around them, illuminated eerily by the dim light of Yamamoto’s ring, and lapsing into silence. Knowing that Gokudera can’t see him, Yamamoto’s frown turns into a fond smile directed at the other boy, happy that he’s started opening up to people other than Tsuna, but also worried that he might overdo it, as Gokudera is prone to do.

Overcome with gratitude, but knowing that Gokudera will only bristle and deny his thanks, Yamamoto pulls the other boy even closer; both deeply thankful that the other boy had protected him, and deeply worried that if he lets go, the other might disappear. And if Gokudera complains? Well, Yamamoto could always say that it’s gotten colder, and that he’s just generating more body heat in defense. But Gokudera doesn’t say anything; he even moves around a bit, trying to get himself comfortable. It makes Yamamoto smile, then the smile vanishes when he realizes that they’re both very much in danger. And that he could lose a friend who is beginning to be just a little more.

“Do you think they know?” Yamamoto asks, more to himself than to Gokudera. “I bet they’re trying to find us right now. I sure hope Tsuna won’t blame himself for this.”

“He… will,” and doesn’t Yamamoto hate how weak Gokudera’s voice sounds, “That’s why… we n-need. To stay… alive,” turning around to give Yamamoto a good glare, Gokudera growls, “D-don’t be an… an idiot, baseball… freak.”

Strange, how Gokudera can be so hopeful when he’s the one that might be _dying_. And isn’t being an optimist _Yamamoto’s_ forte?

Realizing how much of an idiot he’s been, Yamamoto lets out a little laugh, and with a sheepish smile, says, “Yeah. I really am an idiot, huh? _Of course_ they’ll find us. This is Tsuna we’re talking about!”

Gokudera merely huffs at him, probably affronted that Yamamoto had the gall to doubt the Tenth.

They lapse into silence once more. And in that silence, Yamamoto finds himself counting each and every breath Gokudera takes. It’s sporadic, and wet, without a doubt because of a punctured lung, and though it hurts and hurts seeing his friend like this, Yamamoto doesn’t want to take his eyes away from the silver haired boy, afraid that this might be the last time he’ll see him—

Gokudera’s body suddenly slumps forward and, wrought with fear, Yamamoto shakes the other boy desperately and urgently yells, “Gokudera!”

Letting Shigure Kintoki go, Yamamoto grips the other boy’s shoulders with both of his hands, hoping that the touch could help ground Gokudera once more. The other boy jerks abruptly awake, then shuts his eyes tight and groans as he grits his teeth in pain. He’s breathing a little heavier now, and Yamamoto could only helplessly watch as his friend attempts to rein in the pain.

As Gokudera’s breathing begins to settle, Yamamoto breathes a sigh of relief, unconsciously kneading small circles at Gokudera’s back. Still more for himself than the other boy, he begins to softly say, “It’s okay. You’re all right. It’s okay,” over and over and over again until he’s sure. Until Gokudera himself opens his eyes and glares fiercely at him.

Yamamoto shakily gives him a smile, stops his kneading and then moves back again to lean against the wall, his other hand finding Shigure Kintoki once more.

Silently thanking the gods, he grins wryly at Gokudera and teasingly says, “This is not a good place to sleep, okay? No more sleeping.”

Gokudera growls at him, “F-fuck off,” without much heat.

He can’t help it, Yamamoto laughs and laughs and laughs; laughs until he can feel tears sliding down his face, spilling onto his shirt that is now beyond saving from blood and burns.

He can feel Gokudera tense beside him, and if he had his eyes open he might have seen a wide-eyed Gokudera, staring at him in panic because he has no idea what to do, because he’s never seen a hysterical Yamamoto and he doesn’t know what to do.

Throwing away all of his inhibitions, Gokudera uncurls a hand from around his injured side, then reaches out and shakily places it on Yamamoto’s chest. Gripping Yamamoto’s shirt as tightly as he could, he patiently waits for Yamamoto to calm down, hoping that his touch could quiet even a bit of the other boy’s fears. One of which he knows is for him.

For a while, the only sound that can be heard is the pouring of emotions from Yamamoto. It’s not that he’s never cried before, but this… He doesn’t know what happened to Gokudera a while ago, but for that moment he had looked so lifeless that Yamamoto had thought the worst.

Gathering himself back together again, Yamamoto laughs tiredly and says, “Thanks, Gokudera.”

He doesn’t need to look at the other boy to know that he’s irritated when he replies, “For what, b-baseball freak?”

But Yamamoto doesn’t say anything, and Gokudera doesn’t take away the hand on Yamamoto’s chest. It’s a small gesture, but Yamamoto has known Gokudera long enough to recognize the depth of it. Suddenly,

“Oi, are you… bleeding?”

He turns to Gokudera and finds him looking worriedly at him, the hand that had once been on his chest, stained with red.

“This… is yours, i-sn’t it?”

And what should he say to that? Even now Gokudera’s voice is steadily weakening, if he admits it and Gokudera does something rash…

“Oi. Yamamoto.”

Ah, his name. He sighs, “Sorry.”

Gokudera frowns at him, and before he could speak, Yamamoto explains, “I didn’t… have the time to patch myself up. I was looking for you.”

The frown deepens, and just when Yamamoto thinks he’s about to yell, Gokudera surprises him by pushing him away.

“W-what? Gokudera—,”

“I-idiot. At least… t-tie that up.”

“But you! If I move, I might jostle your ribs! What if—,”

Giving him a glare, Gokudera grits his teeth as he says, “…’m n-not that delicate.”

Staring incredulously at Gokudera, and knowing how stubborn he is especially without Tsuna, Yamamoto sighs and carefully, _carefully_ extracts his arm from around the other boy. He’s about to rip his shirt to bandage himself with when,

“D-don’t. Cold… down here. Might g-go into sh-shock.”

Yamamoto nods at that, so he braces himself against the wall and pulls himself up, only to wobble unsteadily before regaining his balance.

He’s still a little dizzy, but the sound of Gokudera’s frantic voice easily snaps him back to reality.

“Sorry, sorry,” he begins to say, clutching painfully at his head, “…’m okay, Gokudera.”

“Fuck,” he hears Gokudera say, the panic (and pain) in his voice not quite gone yet, “Must… must b-be blood loss.”

Chuckling without mirth, Yamamoto quips, “Then that makes the two of us, huh?”

Gokudera only glares at him.

Walking unsteadily around, taking the only light with him, Yamamoto breaks the eerie silence, and the morbidity of what he’s doing, by talking about useless things.

“At this rate, I’m not gonna be able to play in first game of the season, huh?” he says, while ripping the dress shirt of a man who had been part of the other Famiglia, “I hope we don’t lose. I, at least, want to play a game this season,” Yamamoto continues, dressing up as much wounds as he can, trying hard not to look at the face of the man he’s taking the cloth from, trying hard not to look at any man who is dead or dying, because at this rate, he might not be able to save even himself.

It takes a while to patch his own self up, and when he comes back to Gokudera, even in the dim light of his ring, he’s horrified to see how bad his friend has gotten. There’s still some fire left in Gokudera’s eyes though, when he looks at him. But the minute changes in Gokudera’s expression alerts Yamamoto that Yamamoto himself is probably not looking good either.

Somehow, it makes Gokudera smirk, “Wh-what a… pathetic pair we m-make, huh?”

Yamamoto smiles wryly at that, as he eases himself to sit back beside his friend. Thoroughly worn out, both boys remain silent, each lost within their own thoughts.

All of a sudden, “…do you hear that?”

Even when there’s no response from the silver haired teen, Yamamoto sits up a bit, straining his ears for that sound.

“Gokudera, there’s definitely something…,” eyes widening in realization, Yamamoto brings a hand to cup his ear with the earpiece that is finally working and yells, “TSUNA? TSUNA, IS THIS—,”

“…ank god, Yama… How are…”

Frowning and straining to hear against the static, Yamamoto asks, “What? I don’t—there’s too much static, Tsuna!”

He hears nothing but static for a while. A long, long while where the only other sound is the beat of his heart; both hopeful and worried at the same time. Then—

“…me now? Can you hear me now, Yamamoto?”

Heart bursting with relief, Yamamoto immediately replies, “YES! Tsuna, yes! Where… Are you guys near us?”

Yamamoto can’t see his friend, but the relief and worry and panic and hope is obvious in Tsuna’s voice, “We’ve been looking for you for a while now but all we’ve been seeing are,” and here Tsuna pauses, his fear for his friends palpable in the tone of his voice, “…they were all dead bodies, Yamamoto. I was afraid… I was so, so afraid I’d recognize one and—but you’re fine. You’re fine, right? And Gokudera-kun?”

He isn’t fine. He’s far from fine. But Tsuna is here, and he will be. So he answers, “Yeah, yeah, I’m fine! Gokudera… Gokudera’s here with me. We’re both—,” and that’s when Yamamoto finally takes a look at the silver haired boy beside him. And he pauses and he pales and he can’t take his eyes away from the eerily pallor face, and the closed eyes and the chest that doesn’t…

“You have to get us out of here.”

The panic in his voice must have reached his friend, because Tsuna’s suddenly shouting at people. And Yamamoto can’t see him, but Tsuna sounds so serious and commanding and terrified all at once. But all that doesn’t really matter. Because what matters now is that he has to get Gokudera to breathe!

“…mamoto! YAMAMOTO!”

“Tsuna?”

A sigh, then, “I thought I lost you. We need to know what happened to Gokudera-kun, Yamamoto! Dr. Shamal is here—,”

“His chest! It isn’t moving! I haven’t checked—,”

“The pulse, Yamamoto. Dr. Shamal says check the pulse!”

Yamamoto’s already doing that and his fingers are shaking so much from the fear and the tension and _why why why_ can’t he do this properly?! If Gokudera… If Gokudera dies…

“It’s there!” he yells, “But why isn’t he breathing—,”

“Dr. Shamal says you need to perform CPR, Yamamoto! Something must have happened to his lungs—,”

“A rib punctured it!” he hurriedly answers. And just when he’s about to lay Gokudera down, a hole suddenly opens a few feet across from them. The room rumbles dangerously, and as debris starts to fall, Yamamoto covers Gokudera with his own body and hopes and begs and prays that nothing else will happen. He _needs_ to protect Gokudera. It’s the only thing he can do right now. He needs to protect him. Protect him with his own body because Yamamoto doesn’t have the strength anymore. He doesn’t have anything he could give anymore. He needs to—

“YAMAMOTO, PLEASE!” a voice suddenly yells, and it’s so close; so, so close, “We need to take Gokudera-kun to the hospital! Please, Yamamoto! _Listen_ to me!”

There are arms around him now and a voice in his ear telling him to back off, telling him to let go of the friend he had failed to protect. A voice telling him that it’s okay, you’ve done enough, “You’re both going to be okay, Yamamoto.”

And Tsuna’s suddenly _there_ , and, “I promise,” he says, eyes determined and burning with so much fire, “Gokudera-kun’s going to be okay. I promise. You can leave him to me.”

He can trust in those eyes.

So Yamamoto closes his eyes and lets go.

* * *

When Yamamoto opens his eyes again, the first thought that comes into his mind is—

“Gokudera! Where—!”

Then the pain comes and he curls in on himself, trying to rein in the pain. It takes Yamamoto a moment to realize that there are others in the room with him. Someone is at his side, gently coaxing him to relax. Someone else is behind him, massaging small, comforting circles at his back. It takes a while, but when Yamamoto calms down, he hears his father’s voice telling him that he’s okay, telling him that everything is all right, that Gokudera is alive, he’s alive.

When he finally pries his eyes open, he finds Tsuna there, with Reborn perched on his shoulder, both looking down concernedly at him.

Smiling crookedly at him, his eyes brimming with tears, Tsuna softly says, “Hello, Yamamoto. I’m so, so very glad you’re okay.”

Yamamoto takes a moment to gather himself before asking, “Gokudera?”

When Tsuna’s smile falters, Yamamoto is gripped with immense fear. Had they been too late? Were they not able to save the silver haired boy? Suddenly, Reborn jumps from Tsuna’s shoulder to his bed, and looking at him straight in the eyes, says, “Gokudera’s alive, Yamamoto. He’s alive. But you have to understand. His injuries were serious, and we almost didn’t get there in time. He’s not okay yet, but Gokudera is strong. You know this,” he says, then he turns to Tsuna and stresses, “You _both_ know this. So you must believe in him, and that he’ll be okay.”

This is one of the rare times he’s seen Reborn like this; so serious and determined with no schemes in mind. If Reborn believes that things will be okay, then he should be able to, as well. So Yamamoto nods, and lets himself be pulled into a healing sleep.

* * *

Days pass, and when he’s able to stay awake for more than a few minutes, another bed is wheeled into his room.

Tsuna follows, surprisingly without Reborn, and he’s looking intently at the person on the bed, his expression worried and deeply concerned; but more than that, filled with immense relief. And when Bianchi comes, looking as if she hasn’t slept for days, it finally dawns on Yamamoto.

Immediately, he tries to sit up, but his father’s hand prevents him from doing so. He’s about to protest when Tsuna turns to him, is surprised he’s awake, then smiles at him, eyes wet but bright before saying, “I’m glad you’re awake, Yamamoto! Gokudera-kun got released from ICU! They were going to place him in the room next to yours but I thought it would be better if you two stayed in one room,” looking at him hopefully, Tsuna asks, “I hope you don’t mind?”

Of course he doesn’t. So Yamamoto nods and smiles at the other boy, “Thanks Tsuna. I’m glad he’s okay.”

“I’m glad you’re _both_ okay,” Tsuna adds, eyes earnest and still more than a bit terrified, “I was so scared when we heard the sound of bombs from your earpieces. When none of you answered back, I was in the middle of a panic attack when Reborn hit me real hard. He was actually really scary then,” Tsuna sheepishly says, smiling ruefully, “More than usual, I mean. Reborn’s always scary but back then, it was like he was all cold and calculating. Like he could kill someone, you know? When I calmed down enough, he and I started gathering everyone. It never crossed my mind back then, but it was amazing how everyone moved so fast the moment they heard the news. I,” Tsuna pauses, his face suddenly morphing into an expression Yamamoto is not quite familiar with, “I’m _almost_ sorry for the Famiglia who did this. But I’m not. Not really.”

Almost afraid to ask, Yamamoto still continues, “What happened to them?”

“Dino took care of them,” Tsuna simply answers. Then his usual expression returns as he whispers, “Binachi and Dr. Shamal wanted to… uhh, exterminate them. Reborn wanted it too, judging by his expression that night. In fact, a lot of people did. But,” he says, looking determined, “So many people already died that night. I didn’t want that number to increase, whether they’re enemy or not.”

And though Yamamoto would have liked to exact vengeance himself, he knows that Tsuna is right. Someone needs to be the better person here. Someone needs to stop the violence.

Not for the first time, Yamamoto is thankful of Tsuna’s overabundance of kindness.

So he smiles and says, “I understand.”

And before he could say anything more, a shaky voice suddenly interrupts, “T-tenth! You’re too kind! If you’d allow me, I’d blow ‘em up—,”

“HIIIEEEE GOKUDERA-KUN! Please don’t move around too much! Dr. Shamal says—,”

“Who c-cares what that quack doctor says! Tenth, I will get better as f-fast as I can!”

“Gokudera-kun!”

Hearing the silver haired boy’s energetic, though still shaky, declarations, Yamamoto could not help but smile in relief.

If Gokudera’s all right, then he will be too.


End file.
